Song for a Sad Lady
by Margaret Dean
Summary: Longshanks falls in love, but first he has to reach Silverbreeze's scarred soul. A tale set in Great Water Holt.


**SONG FOR A SAD LADY**

**by Margaret R. Dean**

**GW 66 LS**

It was late in the afternoon of a long and lazy day at Great Water Holt: the kind that comes near the end of Longsun, sun-warmed, sweet-scented; the sort of day that says, "Relax and enjoy me now, 'cause there won't be many more before the cold comes." Longshanks was not one to ignore that sort of advice. He had been lazing around the hometree swapping stories with Airwolf for most of the day, but now he had come for a walk on the beach. The lanky plains elf was not much of a swimmer, but he'd found he liked to watch and listen to the sea. He strolled along the wet sand at the water's edge where the more venturesome of the incoming waves could wash over his bare feet. He'd left his jacket back at the hometree and wore only his fringed buckskin breeches and the closefitting tufted green cap that seldom left his head. Every so often he would stoop for a bright shell or pebble, look at it for a few moments, then send it skimming out over the waves with a practiced flick of the wrist.

Longshanks felt more content than he had in turns. It was a good place they had come to, his three soulbrothers and himself: a rich land with plenty of game, a kindly climate on the whole (though he had been warned about the occasional storms), and best of all, a tribe of elves who welcomed the four wanderers (after a slight initial misunderstanding) with open hearts. Longshanks wondered if he and his friends had finally found a place to settle down after many turns of wandering. There sure were plenty of single females in Great Water Holt.

Ahead of him were the rocks that marked the mouth of Oyster Cove. As he neared them, piping music came to his ears from beyond the rocks. Longshanks wondered who the musician was. Not Halfwise, he was sure; his sandy-haired soulbrother was swimming at Blue Spring with Tinker, Seafoam, Seafoam's daughter Twig, and the two healers' otter companions. The six of them had hit it off real well. Of course, Halfwise got along with just about everybody. Longshanks defied any elf to resist that smile of his, or the happy, loving child-nature it revealed.

The player might be Feather, but he thought he'd overheard something about Seahawk taking her on a picnic. Besides, the instrument didn't sound like a single flute, more like multiple pipes. Tallreed, maybe? Possible, but Longshanks thought not. He didn't know the rangy fisherelf too well yet, but there was a plaintive quality to this music that he would not have associated with Tallreed. It called to him the same way the music of the waves did, but with an undercurrent of sadness.

Well, there was only one way to find out for sure who the mysterious musician was. Longshanks headed for the rocks, following the sweet, sad notes of the pipes. Not wanting to interrupt the music, he stole around the tumbled boulders and peeped over them.

The piper sat on a rock a little removed from the others. She was turned half away from him, so that he could see no more of her face than the curve of her cheek and one gracefully pointed ear. Her hair fell to her waist in a silver-white cascade touched here and there with streaks of jet black. One slim leg stretched down to the sand of the beach, circled with a strand of coral beads around the ankle. Her skin was a deep, warm brown with golden undertones, whether naturally so or from tanning he couldn't tell. Her slight form, clad in a dark blue sleeveless tunic belted with silver, swayed a little as she piped, moving to the rhythm of the sea and of her music.

Longshanks stared, mesmerized. Then he took a few deep breaths and got hold of himself. _Well, Myek,_ he thought, _go on up and introduce yourself. Most of the gals in this holt are pretty approachable, right?_ He waited until she lowered the pipes and was staring out to sea, where several dolphins gamboled in the waters of the cove. Then he came out from the rocks and padded across the sand. She did not turn around, although he was not trying to be stealthy; the sound of the waves might be masking the almost imperceptible tread of his bare feet. He could not quite bring himself to speak, though, until he was practically right next to her. Then he swallowed and began hesitantly, "Uh, hi there."

The reaction was not at all what he expected. She whipped around with a scream, hair flying. Longshanks caught a glimpse of a lovely, heart-shaped face and a pair of huge dark violet eyes with deep indigo centers, wide with fright. Then something smashed into his face and he sat down hard on his rear, more from surprise than from the force of the blow. She was gone, the sound of running footsteps receding down the beach.

# # # # #

"Um, Tinker?"

The healer looked up from dabbling her feet in the cold waters of Blue Spring. Her pregnancy meant that she tired more easily than usual, so she was taking a short rest while she watched the others play in the water. She spotted the tall form of Longshanks leaning against a tree not far from the shady bank where she sat.

"You got anything for a bloody nose?" he asked diffidently.

"What? Come here," Tinker demanded. Longshanks stepped toward her, shielding his face with one tanned hand. With an impatient motion she beckoned him to squat down next to her while she inspected the damage. "Phew! Looks like somebody belted you a good one. What'd you do this time?" she inquired, beginning to heal his nose.

"Walked up and said hi," he replied, perfectly seriously.

"Oh, come on. Even Whistlewind isn't that touchy."

"That was all I did, honest. Well, I might've startled her a little. I don't think she heard me coming."

"Who, Whistlewind?"

"No, it wasn't Whistlewind. I don't know who she is." The plains elf's brown eyes met Tinker's. "You tell me."

A picture flashed from his mind to hers, a slender brown she-elf with silver-white, black-streaked hair and large, expressive violet eyes. Comprehension lit the healer's face. "Oh. _Her._ That's Silverbreeze."

"Silverbreeze?"

Tinker nodded. "She showed up in the holt not too long ago, a little before you got here. A weird sort of creature came with her, like a cross between a cat and—" She shook her head violently. "I don't know. I think she has a dolphin for a bondmate—at least, I've seen her swimming with them once or twice down in Oyster Cove. Haven't really spoken to her. She doesn't talk to anyone much; Owlcaller sometimes, and Wolfsister. She sends more often than she speaks. Sort of shy..."

"Shy, huh?" Longshanks rubbed his newly healed nose thoughtfully.

"Um, well..." Tinker scooped up a handful of water and scrubbed at the drying bloodstains on Longshanks' face. She grinned halfheartedly. "Let's say she keeps to herself."

"Yeah." Longshanks fixed her with a direct brown gaze. "There's something you're not telling me, Tink."

Tinker sighed. "I was afraid of that. Okay. As far as we can tell, she's scared to death of males—all males. Usually she just screams and runs. The only other person she's ever hit was Hunter, and he bumped right into her."

There was a short silence, punctuated by the sound of splashing, chittering, shrieks and shouts of laughter from the spring. Then Longshanks asked, "And why weren't you going to tell me that?"

Tinker looked down at her own bare foot splashing idly in the water. "'Cause I could tell just from your sending picture that you're—attracted to her."

There was another silence, then a murmured, "You might say that."

The healer sighed. "Longshanks, there's an awful lot of single females in this holt."

"I know."

"Silverbreeze... The only thing we can figure out is that she was hurt somehow, terribly. You can't see it till you're right up close, and usually she doesn't let anyone get that near her, but I managed it once. She's got scars. All over. Oh, someone did a pretty good job of healing on her—herblore, I think—but they're there."

"'Long with some others you can't see. Is that what you're trying to say, Tink?"

"I guess so. I don't know. She hasn't been here that long."

The plains elf's long face grew hard. "Somebody did that—to her?" The look in his eyes boded no good for whoever the unknown somebody was, if Longshanks and he ever met. Then his expression softened. His voice was quiet but determined. "It's not right for such a pretty lady to be—crippled like that."

"No," the healer agreed. "But what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something." The lanky elf sighed and got to his feet. "Thanks for the healing, Tinker."

She patted his leg affectionately. "Anytime."

He started to leave, then turned back with a slight, crooked smile. "Um, Tinker..."

"What?"

"You got anything for a lost heart?"

# # # # #

"She's scared of _males_?" Bugdance's voice rose to an incredulous squeak as he stared down at his soulbrother. Longshanks lay stretched out on his sleeping platform in the foursome's hometree, hands behind his head, while Bugdance swung in his hammock across the small room with his new bondbeast, a kinkajou he had dubbed Honey, curled up on his chest. The bushy-haired jungle elf shook his head in amazement. "What's wrong with this chick? She eat some bad dreamberries or something?"

"Tinker thinks somebody hurt her somehow, real bad," Longshanks replied, "so bad that now she sees any male as a threat."

"_Any_ male?" Bugdance still sounded as if he couldn't believe it. "I mean, I can see a girl getting spooked if she suddenly saw _you_ looming over her, horseface, but—"

"Tinker said it was all males," the plains elf interrupted.

Bugdance threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! But why are you so worked up about it? I mean, it's a shame, but—"

"'Cause he's in love with her, bug-brain," Heartseeker said with the authoritative air of one vastly experienced in such matters. The small dark elf lay in his own hammock, which hung above Longshanks' bed. He peered over the edge of it at Longshanks. "Right?"

"I guess so."

"Right. So you tried introducing yourself and she gave you a bloody nose." Heartseeker frowned, his heavy dark brows drawing together. "So much for the direct approach."

Bugdance's eyes glinted and a manic grin appeared on his face as he looked over at Heartseeker. "Does that mean we get to try the _in_direct approach?"

Heartseeker looked back at him with suspicion. "What've you got in mind?"

"Let's see..." Bugdance stared at the ceiling for a few moments, absently running his fingers through Honey's golden-brown fur. "Well ... if she plays with dolphins she's probably a good swimmer, right?"

Heartseeker shrugged. "Probably. What's that got to do with—"

"Let me finish. Longshanks, now, is _not_ much of a swimmer, right?"

"I do okay," the plains elf said defensively. "I stay afloat."

"Never mind that. The thing is, you could do a pretty convincing imitation of someone who can't swim, right? So you find out where she goes swimming, and you jump in the water and pretend to be drowning! Then she'll have to come rescue you, right? And there you are! You'll be grateful, she'll feel protective—it can't miss!" Bugdance flung out his arms in rapture.

"Oh yeah? And what if she doesn't come rescue him?" Heartseeker objected. "What if she's too scared? He could drown!"

"Aw, c'mon, he wouldn't really be drowning..."

"No!" Longshanks cut him off. "I'm not looking to trick her into falling in love with me or anything like that. Right now she hurts so much she can't love anybody that way. I want ... I want her to be healed. After that, well, then we'd see. But right now she's got herself locked up in a little cage in her mind, and prairie fires! I don't know how to bring her out. Can't even talk to her ... she'd just scream and run..." Longshanks pounded the wall of the hometree softly in frustration. Heartseeker and Bugdance exchanged a worried glance. They knew that being caged was one of their soulbrother's own personal horrors.

**Look, Myek,** Heartseeker sent seriously, **have you considered just waiting a bit? Maybe she'll sort things out for herself if you give her time.**

**How long, Daivi?** the plains elf returned, his sending edged with pain. **And in the meantime, she's hurting. I can't let that go on.**

**You really do care for her. But you just said you don't know how to get through to her—**

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of voices outside and a peal of happy laughter.

"Halfwise is back," Bugdance commented.

Longshanks sat up suddenly, inspiration lighting his long face. "Komei's bones! Why didn't I think of that before?"

"Think of what?" asked Heartseeker.

Longshanks looked up at him with the beginnings of a grin. "Tell me—who's the least threatening male you know?"

Heartseeker and Bugdance exchanged a puzzled glance; then the answer dawned on them simultaneously. "Halfwise!" they chorused.

Longshanks nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. If anybody can get through those walls she's built 'round herself, he can." The grin turned into a fond smile. "For what ails Silverbreeze, I'm thinking our little brother just might be the best medicine there is."

# # # # #

Silverbreeze woke later in the morning than she usually did. The dappled patch of sunlight from the window of her hometree had moved down the wall almost to the floor. She jumped from her furs a little guiltily, startling Littlepath into wakefulness. The furry cat-creature raised its head from where it lay curled up at the foot of the bed, yawned hugely, and made a drowsy, inquiring noise.

"It's all right, 'Path," Silverbreeze said softly. "Go back to sleep." The reason she'd overslept was that she had been too upset to fall asleep the night before. Littlepath's gentle grooming of her hair had finally soothed her into slumber sometime after second moonrise. Her furry companion had no doubt remained wakeful long after that, watching over her to make sure her sleep was not troubled by dreams. Well, it hadn't been; thank the High Ones for small favors.

Littlepath made that questioning noise again as Silverbreeze reached for the dark blue tunic lying on top of the wooden clothes chest and belted it on.

"I'm going down to Oyster Cove," she told her friend, thrusting a dagger into her belt. "I promised Quicksplash we'd dive for oysters today." Littlepath growled in concern. "I'll be all right," she said, but inwardly she was not so sure. If she had not given her promise to her bondmate, Silverbreeze would probably have avoided the cove for several days. The strange elf in the cap might be there again. He might be angry that she had hit him. She hadn't really meant to, but he had startled her so badly she'd reacted without thinking.

She would hit him again, though, if he tried to come at her, tried to touch—

Silverbreeze shook her head violently to dispel these disturbing thoughts. After giving Littlepath a farewell pat on the head and receiving an affectionate lick in return, she stepped from the door of her hometree.

It was not far from her tree to the beach, one reason she had chosen it when she first came here. She approached Oyster Cove cautiously, looking all about her before she left the shelter of the rocks, but the sandy curve of shore was deserted. Silverbreeze breathed more easily as she climbed nimbly down the rocks toward the sea. Perhaps the water's soothing touch would calm her troubled mind.

A little way out in the water she could see the gamboling forms of her dolphin playmates. As she neared the water's edge, Quicksplash surged from the waves, skittering backwards on his tail and calling out in a long series of whistles and clicks the dolphin equivalent of "Come on in, the water's fine!" With the ghost of a smile at his exuberance, Silverbreeze dove in and swam toward him. He met her halfway, circled around her several times, then bumped her shoulder expectantly.

**Something wrong, 'Splash?** she sent, running an affectionate hand down his sleek gray back.

**new friend** came the answer from the dolphin's mind. **elf-friend come meet new friend** An impudent flip of his tail sprayed water over her. He swam off toward the others and she followed, wondering if perhaps he and Surf and Lightstreak had found another dolphin to play with. There was supposed to be a school of them a little farther hub-back, but they didn't usually venture into these waters. Only when she was quite close did she realize that the third form in the water with Surf and Lightstreak was elfin—and male.

Silverbreeze shot upward and broke water with a half-startled, half-indignant gasp. The strange elf surfaced at the same time, but not, it appeared, because he had noticed her. In fact it was several moments before he happened to glance in her direction. In that time she had the chance to realize this was not the same elf who had frightened her yesterday. This one had straight, sandy hair falling almost into his eyes. His skin was paler than that other's, his ears smaller, and around the base of his throat gleamed a richly ornamented neckband of gold. As he trod water, taking in air in deep breaths, Surf swam up to him and butted him playfully in the chest. He laughed, a clear, joyous sound. The next moment he turned toward Silverbreeze. His brown eyes widened a little. Then he smiled and said "Hi."

Silverbreeze surged backward, but her retreat was momentarily cut off by Quicksplash. The dolphin was circling her again, clicking complacently as if he thought he had done something enormously clever by introducing her to this elf. Silverbreeze clutched at him for support and felt for the hilt of her dagger as she sent apprehensively, **Who are you? What are you doing here?** If he was a holt native she supposed she had no right to challenge him, but he did not seem at all offended.

"I'm Halfwise," he answered, still smiling. "I came swimming and found these wavedancers here. Aren't they nice? I think they like me," he added as Surf bumped him again. His voice was bright and childlike, though its pitch was a youth's, and the brown eyes regarding her held a child's curiosity, no more. "Are they your friends?" he asked, noticing Quicksplash.

Silverbreeze regarded him for a moment or two, curiosity gradually replacing her fear, then answered, **Yes. This one is my bondmate, Quicksplash. That one is Surf, and the other one is Lightstreak.**

He nodded happily. "They're nice," he said again.

He cocked his head and seemed about to ask another question, but Silverbreeze cut him off. **I promised Quicksplash we'd go oyster fishing this morning. Sorry to bother you.**

"You're not—" he began in a slightly bewildered tone, but she ducked under the water and swam off, Quicksplash trailing behind her. It was only after they were a good distance from the sandy-haired elf that she realized she had not told him her name. Nor had he asked it.

She found him on the beach when she returned from her oyster fishing, lying on his stomach in the sand, chin propped on his hands, with a collection of bright shells spread out in front of him. He was studying them intently and again did not seem to notice Silverbreeze until she was only a dolphin-length or so away. Then he looked up and smiled. His smile was as radiant as the daystar. It lit his whole face and almost made her feel like smiling back. Not that the smile seemed particularly meant for her. Again like the daystar, this was the face he turned on the world in general. She could be warmed by it without feeling singled out.

"Hi," he said. "Did you find some oysters?"

**Yes.** She patted the bulging sack that hung from her belt.

"That's good. I found some shells for Bugdance," Halfwise said proudly, indicating the collection. "He's my friend," he added. "He likes to make things. He asked me to get some pretty shells so he could make a necklace. Do you think these will be good for a necklace?"

Silverbreeze approached cautiously and squatted down to examine the shells. **Well,** she replied doubtfully, **they don't all match.**

"Oh, that's all right," he said confidently. "Bugdance doesn't care if they match as long as they're pretty."

**They are pretty,** she assured him, and was rewarded by another smile.

His next question caught her by surprise. "Why do you send all the time? Can't you talk?"

Coming from anyone else, such a question would have provoked an instant withdrawal from Silverbreeze. But Halfwise did not ask it in a challenging tone, nor a pitying one, but with simple curiosity. She answered equally simply, though her voice was barely above a whisper. "I can talk." **I just ... prefer to send. Mostly.**

"Oh." He nodded, accepting. Then he sat up and reached for the pile of clothes that lay nearby. Digging in it, he extracted a leather pouch and began to put the shells in it. "I have to go pretty soon. I have to take these shells to Bugdance."

Silverbreeze stood up. **I have to go too.** She patted her collecting sack again. **These won't keep long without soaking.**

Halfwise nodded once more, then looked up at her with a bright smile. "Goodbye, then. See you tomorrow?"

Her breath caught the tiniest bit, her eyes widening in apprehension. But his eyes merely questioned; they did not demand. **Maybe,** she said, **if you're here.** She glanced out over the sea, where the dolphins were playing touch-me-touch-you.

"I'd like to come and play with the wavedancers again," he answered.

**Then maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye!** She hurried across the beach to the rocks and began to clamber up them toward her hometree. Suddenly she turned back and sent, **Halfwise ... my name is ... Silverbreeze.** He paused in the act of pulling his tunic over his head and waved at her. Silverbreeze waved hesitantly back; then, overcome with a sudden qualm at her own boldness, she scrambled up the rocks as fast as she could and ran till she reached the hometree. But all through the rest of the day she found herself remembering his smile.

# # # # #

Over the next moon Silverbreeze saw Halfwise frequently. At first it was only in Oyster Cove, where they frolicked with the dolphins and she taught him how to dive for shellfish. Afterward they would laze on the beach in the sun while he talked about things he had seen in his travels, about his three friends, about Great Water and how much he liked it. He introduced her to his Preserver companion, Flitterleaf, who fascinated her since she had never seen such a creature before. In turn he was enchanted by her sending pictures of her former home: crystal-clear blue waters, frolicking dolphins, chains of tiny islands the only land in sight. He never pressed her for more than she was willing to remember. Once in a while he would ask her a question, but he always seemed satisfied with whatever answer she chose to give. He was always glad to see her, but never sought her out or followed her when she chose to leave. He demanded nothing of her, content that she merely be herself. In return he gave her the fact of his own existence and his innocent joy in life.

After awhile she invited him to her hometree to meet Littlepath. 'Path could get very protective toward his elf-friend, especially where males were concerned, but it was obvious the cat-creature saw no threat in Halfwise. His first act was to pounce on the sandy-haired elf and lick him half to death, which set Halfwise laughing helplessly. It was not long before Littlepath began grooming Halfwise's hair, which Halfwise also seemed to enjoy immensely. Within a short time the two were fast friends. Silverbreeze was reassured by her furry companion's easy acceptance of her new friend, and by Halfwise's unquestioning friendliness toward Littlepath.

One day Silverbreeze brought her pipes to Oyster Cove for the first time since her encounter with Longshanks, so that she could play her "Song of the Sea Children" for Halfwise. He was delighted. After he heard her play, he asked shyly if he could try the pipes himself. To Silverbreeze's astonishment, after a few initial fumbles that made him laugh, melodies began to ripple from the instrument that seemed to set her soul dancing. She listened entranced while he played. Afterward she asked him if he had played pipes before.

"No," he answered, "not ones like this. I have a flute, though. I play sometimes with my friends."

**Why don't you bring your flute tomorrow?** she suggested. **Maybe we can play together.**

Halfwise nodded happily. **I'd like that.**

Silverbreeze smiled at him. She felt more at ease with this gentle elf than she had with anyone since she came to Great Water Holt. She was already anticipating the sharing of music with him.

# # # # #

Longshanks saw her smile and greeted it with inward rejoicing. He had followed the progress of Silverbreeze's friendship with Halfwise through the medium of his soulbrother's extremely clear visual memory. Halfwise was always glad to share sending pictures of his day's experiences with his friend, who cherished even the vicarious pleasure of being with the object of his affections. Through Halfwise's eyes Longshanks watched the tightly closed flower of her spirit begin to show the first signs of opening.

"I think it's working," he told Bugdance one evening after Halfwise went to bed. "She's coming out of her shell, I can see it."

"Yeah, well, you'd better be careful, Longshanks," the curly-haired elf advised from his perch on a low branch of their hometree. "If you don't watch out, Halfwise is gonna fall in love with her and _then_ where'll you be?"

Longshanks shook his head. "He's not in love with her."

"How do you know?"

**C'mon, Miki. If Tinker could tell just from one sending picture that I'd fallen in love with Silverbreeze, don't you think I'd've figured it out by this time if Piet had? Tink's only known me for three moons.**

Bugdance shrugged. "You've got a point there. Okay, he's not in love with her ... any more than he is with every other elf in the whole wide world. We all know Halfwise loves everybody. But what's to prevent _her_ falling in love with _him_, hmmm? It has happened, y'know. Longshanks, m'friend, I think it's time for you to at least let the lady know you exist."

Longshanks nodded thoughtfully. "You may be right."

# # # # #

Halfwise and Silverbreeze, escorted by the dolphins, took Silverbreeze's dugout and sailed to Small Island the next day. Halfwise had been told he could find certain kinds of herb there that were difficult to come by on the mainland. Silverbreeze, who had some knowledge of sea plants and their uses but not of land plants, was glad for the opportunity to learn something new. The two of them came back to Oyster Cove with several bags full of plants, which they laid out on a cloth spread on the sand and began to sort into bundles. While they were doing this, Silverbreeze saw Halfwise glance up from his work, smile broadly, and wave to someone outside her field of vision.

"Hi, Longshanks!" he called.

Silverbreeze turned quickly and saw the tall elf in the cap walking up the beach toward them. She gasped and half rose, ready to bolt, before she registered what Halfwise had said. The tall elf was Halfwise's friend Longshanks, the one whose sayings he was always quoting and whom he obviously looked on as a beloved elder brother. For a moment Silverbreeze wavered, still wanting to flee, but realizing such an action would confuse Halfwise and might even hurt his feelings. At last she sat back down with a bump as the tall elf drew near them and compromised by turning her back to him.

"Hi there, Halfwise," Longshanks said easily. There was a distinct twang to his speech. "What'cha been doing?"

"We went out to Small Island and got some herbs," Halfwise said, indicating the little heaps of greenery in front of him. "I even found some heartleaf."

"That's good." Longshanks looked down at them from his considerable height and grinned. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh! I'm sorry. Silverbreeze, this is my friend Longshanks. Longshanks, this is Silverbreeze."

"Pleased to meet you, Silverbreeze. Fact is, we did meet once before, but we weren't introduced."

Unable to ignore him any longer without seeming rude, Silverbreeze looked up at Longshanks fearfully, her insides churning. He met her gaze and smiled; the corners of his brown eyes crinkled as he did so. "No harm done, pretty lady," he said softly.

**I—I'm sorry I—** she began, wishing desperately she were somewhere else.

**No harm done,** he repeated in sending. **Not to me. Let's just forget it, okay? Then we can start over.**

_We?_ she thought half angrily. What did he mean by that? What was it he wanted to start? She met his eyes for a few heartbeats longer, then turned away. There was a hint of something in those eyes and in the tone of his sending that made her uncomfortable. An inner voice was screaming at her to flee, but she was still reluctant to show her fear in front of Halfwise. She drew up her legs and hugged her knees, trying to ignore the fact that Longshanks was still standing over her. It was no good. His shadow stretched out on the sand in front of her, swaying back and forth a little as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, praying the High Ones he would go away.

After what seemed an eternity, he said, "Well, see you back at the hometree, Halfwise. Take care, hear?" He stooped to pat the sandy-haired elf on the shoulder and then was gone, sauntering on down the beach. Silverbreeze watched him go from behind the curtain of her hair. She barely heard Halfwise begin talking about herbs again, for she was still trying to puzzle out what it was in the tall elf's brown eyes that disquieted her so.

# # # # #

Longshanks found Bugdance and Heartseeker waiting for him at the hometree. "Well, how'd it go?" the curly-haired elf asked eagerly.

Longshanks shrugged. "Could be worse. She didn't scream and run."

"And I notice your nose isn't bleeding," remarked Heartseeker. "I take it she's not quite ready to fall into your arms yet, though."

"Not yet, no." The lanky elf paused thoughtfully, then went on, "I think it's time for the next step."

# # # # #

"What's with the flute, little brother?" Bugdance asked. Longshanks looked up quickly from his mending and saw the elaborately decorated wooden instrument in Halfwise's hands. He and Bugdance exchanged a glance.

"I'm going to practice with Feather," Halfwise answered, then added, "I asked Silverbreeze to come too. She said she would."

Longshanks nodded. "Sounds nice. Where are you all going to be? I might drop by later myself."

"Feather's hometree."

"Good enough. See you later, then."

Halfwise went out. Longshanks laid his work aside and reached under his sleeping platform. After a little rummaging he drew out a stringed instrument and began tuning it. Bugdance regarded him thoughtfully. "This is it, huh?"

"Yup, taking the plunge." Longshanks strummed a few chords, grimaced, tightened a tuning peg and tried again. "Just want to run through it a couple times and I'll be ready. I hope to the High Ones she is."

# # # # #

Silverbreeze had been apprehensive about joining Feather and Halfwise's jam session, but the sandy-haired elf seemed so pleased with his idea that she did not have the heart to refuse him. In a burst of bravado she brought along her harp as well as her pipes. The harp was a small golden instrument shaped like a dolphin. Halfwise fell in love with it at once. The three elves tried out several combinations of the four instruments. After awhile Dove came out of her nearby hometree and sat in the doorway to listen. A little later Wolfsister strolled by, heard the music going on, and speedily fetched her lute. By the time Longshanks arrived on the scene, Halfwise had appropriated the harp and was sending a cascade of silvery notes through the late summer air, counterpointed by Wolfsister's deeper chords, while the flute and pipes wove an intricate obbligato. Wolfsister's bond-wolf, Shadowstreak, lay snoozing at her feet, apparently undisturbed by the racket. Silverbreeze, Longshanks noted, looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her; the slight frown on her face was one of concentration as she attempted to match her rhythms to Feather's.

The plains elf waited until the music drew to a close before speaking. "Well, that sounded right nice. Mind if I join the party?"

Halfwise glanced up at him with a smile, but it was Wolfsister who answered. "Sure, stranger, come on over." The flame-haired wolfrider beckoned him with a broad sweep of her arm. "What is that thing?" she asked, giving Longshanks' instrument a queer look as he sat down next to her on a hollow log.

"Well, the humans I got it from called it a charango," he answered. "It's made out of a scaleshell hide, the body of it." He flipped the instrument over to show the scaly underside of the soundbox. Wolfsister rapped it sharply and grinned. Longshanks turned it right way round and strummed the six strings experimentally. "Are we tuned right?" Wolfsister picked out a few chords and Longshanks adjusted the charango's pegs. "Close enough. We'll give it a whirl. Anybody know this one?" He launched into an ancient dreamberry tune that was familiar to them all. Wolfsister grinned more broadly and joined in, followed almost immediately by Halfwise. After a few measures Feather took over the melody, allowing the strings to improvise whatever harmonies they pleased.

Silverbreeze sat with her pipes in her hands, gazing uneasily at Longshanks. After a few moments Feather sent to her, **What's wrong? Don't you know this one?**

**Yes! I just—** Silverbreeze halted, bit her lip, then raised the pipes. A sweet descant joined Feather's melody. Longshanks did not look up from his instrument, but he smiled.

They followed that tune with several more old favorites, while their audience grew to include Tinker and Owlcaller as well as Dove. At last Longshanks brought the latest song to a close with a fast lick, then looked around at his fellow musicians.

"Could you folks use a rest? I've got a new song I'd like to try out that needs an audience."

"Go ahead, Longshanks," said Feather, exchanging a glance with Dove. They had heard him sing before and they knew he had a knack for composing.

"Give it a try," Wolfsister seconded. "Let's hear how you sound solo, big guy." She gave Longshanks a friendly nudge in the ribs and a mischievous grin. He cocked an eye at her, then bent to his instrument. There was a twang to the timbre of the charango that matched the one in the plains elf's voice. The melody he drew from it was gentle, with a swinging, easy rhythm. He let the instrument play alone for a little while to set the pattern of the melody, then began to sing.

_Pretty lady, oh,_

_Sittin' by the sea,_

_Pretty lady, no,_

_Don't run away from me,_

_Oh no..._

_Sit back, put your feet up,_

_Let down your hair,_

_Pull your boots off_

_And chuck 'em anywhere,_

_We don't care..._

_You're among friends,_

_You're among friends._

_Pretty lady, oh,_

_Sittin' all alone,_

_C'mon over and_

_Make yourself at home,_

_Oh yeah..._

_Sit back, put your feet up,_

_Let down your hair,_

_Take a look around_

_And see that we care,_

_Yes, we care..._

_You're among friends,_

_You're among friends._

_Sad lady, I know_

_You're hurtin' inside,_

_But don't go,_

_Don't run away and hide,_

_Oh, no..._

_Don't go..._

_Sit back, put your feet up,_

_Let down your hair (oh, your hair!)_

_Take a look around_

_And see that I care,_

_Yes I care..._

_You're among friends,_

_You're among friends._

_You're among friends,_

_Oh, lady, you're among friends._

Silverbreeze's attention was caught by the melody almost immediately. There was a distinct familiarity to some of the phrases. This puzzled her until she realized they came from one of her own tunes, the one she had been playing on the beach the day he— She looked up, startled, just as Longshanks began to sing. "Pretty lady": the same words he'd used to her when Halfwise introduced them. Before he reached the end of the first verse she was certain. Longshanks had asked for an audience, but this song was aimed at one listener alone.

Silverbreeze wanted to flee, to run away and plunge herself into the great water, but at the same time she felt pinned down, unable to move as the song rippled relentlessly on. She felt as if everyone was looking at her—no, they were all watching Longshanks. She could get away ... no, she could not get away. She was trapped, chained by words, caught in a cage of notes. Though she barely heard them over the pounding of her heart, they held her nonetheless.

The song ended. Longshanks caressed the charango's strings a final time. Then he looked up into Silverbreeze's eyes. The emotion that lay behind his gaze was plainer than ever.

"No," she choked out. **No!** Then she was up and running, stumbling out of the circle and through the trees of the holt. Longshanks sat frozen for a heartbeat, then sprang up with a soft curse. The charango fell to the ground with a jangle of strings as he lit out after her.

She heard him coming, his footsteps gaining on her. Oh High Ones, she'd seen how long his legs were. He was faster than she was—she would never be able to outrun him. She tried anyway, putting on a burst of speed, but then his sending came to her. **Silverbreeze, wait!**

Despairing, she whirled on him, back against a tree. **Don't come near me!** she screamed in his mind. **Stay away or I'll—**

He halted the moment she stopped running and stood motionless two dolphin-lengths away. His face was still, his expression guarded, only a flicker in his brown eyes betraying the fact that he had sensed more than mere words behind her sending. **I'm not,** he sent gently. **I won't come any closer if you don't want me to. I won't chase you. I just want to talk to you. Okay?**

She stared at him for a few moments, breathing hard, the rough tree bark pressing into her back. He did not move. Part of her still wanted to flee, but another part wanted to hear what he had to say. She relaxed just a little and stood straighter.

**Why?** she sent at last. **In front of all those people—**

"I'm sorry. I thought you'd feel safer with other people around. And I thought the music might help."

**You—you planned this!** she flared at him.

"Some of it," he admitted. "I've been working on that song for awhile, waiting for a chance. Finally got it, for what it's worth, and figured I better grab it now 'stead of waiting any longer. Okay, maybe I jumped too soon. Maybe you're not ready to listen yet. But I'm not much for pussyfooting around, Silverbreeze. I wanted—I wanted you to know where I stand."

Her eyes shifted away. **What do you want of me?**

"I'm not asking anything of you," he answered, with a slight emphasis on the verb. "I've got no right to go making demands on you. I just want you to know I care for you, that's all. I don't expect you to love me. I'm not handsome or Talented or anything like that—"

**No,** she agreed softly, meeting his eyes. **Just strong and kind and honest, and you care about people. That's what Halfwise says.**

Longshanks' ears reddened slightly under her gaze. "Well, yeah, I'm fond of him, too."

**So am I ... a lot. More than that, I trust him.** Her gaze grew speculative. **I think maybe you knew that.**

"I did kind of throw him your way," he admitted. "Wasn't hard—all I had to do was mention I'd seen those wavedancers in Oyster Cove. After that, well, I knew I could count on my little brother just to be himself. I figured he might be good for you, after Tinker explained why you ran away—"

Her violet eyes widened, full of questions. **After I—how long have you—?**

"Since the moment I saw you. Well, I guess you'd say I was attracted then. Thinking over what Tinker'd said only made it stronger."

Silverbreeze was silent for awhile, thinking of what this elf had done for her, how he had waited, how long he had stayed away. Even now he did not demand, merely presented her with the fact of his love. _No!_ she thought in despair. _I'm not worth all that._

His eyes answered, though she had neither voiced nor sent the thought, though he knew nothing of her doubt, _You are to me._

But he didn't know, could not know the soiled, broken thing she was inside; less than elf, less than animal, even, for animals know no shame. She looked down at her feet, fighting back tears.

"I—can't..." she whispered.

"I know," he said gently. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to do anything. Just give me permission to love you, okay? That's all I'm asking for right now—just to see you sometimes, maybe talk, maybe play a little music. That's all. If that's too much, I can try to go away ... but it won't be easy."

"No," she said, so softly that he could barely hear her. **I don't want you to go away.**

He let out a long breath. Silverbreeze could feel the release of tension. A few moments passed; then he said, "Let's go on back to the others, okay?"

Her shoulders hunched with embarrassment. What must they all be thinking of her? Longshanks noticed her discomfort immediately.

"Hey now! After all this fuss, didn't you even listen to what I was singing back there? You're among friends, Silverbreeze. These Great Water folks are good people. They care. They may not understand what's going on, but they'll sure try. Give 'em a chance, huh? 'Sides—" He grinned. "—we were making some pretty fine music just now. I'd hate to break up a good band." Silverbreeze looked at him, a tentative smile touching her lips. He beckoned her with a wink and a tilt of his head. "C'mon." He sauntered off through the trees. After many heartbeats of staring after him, trying to sort out her tangled emotions, she followed hesitantly.

When she arrived back at Feather's hometree, Silverbreeze found that what Longshanks said was true. Reactions to her return were varied, but all were welcoming: Halfwise's sunny smile, Feather's friendly nod, a look of subdued relief on Dove's face, a glance and a smile exchanged between Tinker and Owlcaller, and Wolfsister's cheery hail. **There you are! I was beginning to wonder what was taking so long.** She asked the plains elf, "Did you promise not to do it again, Longshanks?" She had his charango in her lap, having evidently decided to try it out while he was away. As Silverbreeze resumed her place in the circle, the flame-haired wolfrider leaned forward and whispered loudly, "He doesn't sing _that_ badly, now does he?"

The silver-haired elf shook her head and smiled. "No," she whispered. He was right. She was among friends. Still smiling, she picked up her pipes as Longshanks took his charango back from Wolfsister.

"Well," the tall elf asked, "you all want to try again?"

# # # # #

The days shortened as Longsun shaded into Brightleaf. Though the daylight hours were still warm, there was a distinct chill to the air most nights that spoke of the coming Coldtime. Dove was not surprised to find Longshanks sewing what looked like a cloak when she stopped by the foursome's hometree one morning. She'd come to ask Halfwise's help in herb collecting. Many medicinal plants reached their peak of potency at this time of year and not only did the sandy-haired elf have an uncanny knack for locating herbs, he could more easily do the bending and climbing and digging that the pale healer's advanced pregnancy made difficult for her. Halfwise, as always, was happy to help out. While he was inside rummaging for collecting bags and whatnot, Longshanks helped Dove sit down on one of the roots of the hometree. Then he settled back down himself and took up his work again.

Dove reached over to stroke the soft doeskin and the rabbit-fur lining. "That's lovely, Longshanks."

He smiled a little. "It's for Silverbreeze—going to surprise her. I don't think she's got anything for real cold weather, and those winds off the sea can get mighty chilly."

Dove nodded. "How are you two getting along?" she inquired delicately.

"Pretty well. We've been doing some hunting with Wolfsister, some music, and she and Halfwise've been teaching me to swim better. Don't think I'll ever be as good at it as she is, though."

"I see her around the holt a lot more these days," Dove commented. "She even came to the last Council."

"Uh-huh. Halfwise and Wolfsister finally talked her into it. Maybe in a few more moons we can get her to stay for the party afterwards."

"You and Halfwise have done wonders for her. Maybe all she needed to bring her out was a friend or two. I know how important that can be." Longshanks knew Dove was alluding to her own struggle for acceptance in Great Water Holt after she was cured of madness, when friends seemed few and far between. He and his soulbrothers, following their friend Airwolf's lead, found it easy to accept the gentle healer for what she was now, rather than harking back to a past self they had never experienced; but Longshanks knew there were many Great Water elves who still saw her as Lake, the insane antihealer.

"It helps to have friends," he agreed.

Dove's coral eyes met his. "You know, I'm almost ashamed that none of the rest of us ever took the trouble to reach out to Silverbreeze."

Longshanks shrugged. "She hadn't been here that long when we came. There's a lot of elves in this holt, and she hasn't made it real easy to get to know her. 'Sides, none of you were in love with her," he pointed out.

Dove smiled at him and patted the folds of doeskin that lay over his knee. "All I can say is that she's a very lucky girl."

A shadow passed over the lanky elf's face. "We're not lovemated yet," he warned.

The healer caught the strained note in his voice. She was about to make a reassuring reply when Halfwise emerged from the hometree, laden with bags and tools. "I'm ready," he announced.

"Flitterleaf ready too!" shrilled the bright green Preserver from its perch on his shoulder. "Help snowysoft highthing find many cure-plants!"

Dove smiled at them both and got up, with a helping hand from Longshanks. "Let's go, then." She turned to the plains elf and said softly, "Some things take more time than others."

"I know that," he replied. "Anyhow, there's never been but one good thing I ever got out of life—" He glanced over at Halfwise. "—I didn't have to work for."

Dove nodded. "Well, if you need help, don't be afraid to ask."

"Thanks. I'll remember that." Longshanks watched her leave with Halfwise, then bent to his task once more, handling the velvety doeskin with the greatest care.

# # # # #

Later that day he went looking for Silverbreeze and found her at her hometree, mending a fishnet. Littlepath was with her, grooming her silver-white hair while she worked. The cat-creature looked up as Longshanks approached, growled amiably, and trotted over to give him a thorough sniffing. The plains elf had not found it as easy as Halfwise had to get used to Silverbreeze's furred companion. There was something about Littlepath that bothered him. But the two of them had come to an understanding and at least the semblance of friendship. Longshanks stood still while 'Path checked him out and then went back to curl up next to his elf-friend.

Silverbreeze glanced over her shoulder at Longshanks, who was holding something behind his back. "Hello." She spoke aloud now more often than she had at the beginning.

"Hi." He smiled. "Got something for you." He came up behind her and dropped the cloak over her shoulders.

As the silky fur brushed her cheek and fell softly over her arms, Silverbreeze started like a frightened doe. The net dropped from her fingers and she jumped to her feet, tearing at the garment as if it burned her. The cloak slid to the ground. Silverbreeze caught once glimpse of Longshanks' shocked face before she was off and running, leaving the cloak crumpled at his feet.

Littlepath stood to his full height, towering over even the tall plains elf. He was glaring now, growling in earnest, his tawny fur bristling. He looked ready to spring to Silverbreeze's defense if Longshanks attempted pursuit.

"Don't worry, 'Path," Longshanks bit out, real hurt in his tone. "I'm not going to run after her this time." Snatching up the cloak from the ground, he strode quickly off in the opposite direction.

# # # # #

It took Silverbreeze a good while to find him, partly because mustering the courage to ask other elves if they had seen him was a major effort. She looked for Halfwise first, but he had gone off with Dove and was nowhere to be found. At last, late in the afternoon, Owlcaller was able to tell her that she had seen Longshanks heading in the direction of the Rock Bluffs earlier in the day.

"How did he look?" Silverbreeze asked hesitantly. "Did he look—angry?"

"Angry?" Owlcaller tilted her head, her chain-link headdress ringing faintly as she did so. Her green eyes were thoughtful. "No, I wouldn't say so. A little discouraged, maybe."

Silverbreeze thanked her and hurried toward the Rock Bluffs. She found Longshanks there, perched on the lip of the promontory with his long legs drawn up, staring out to sea. Though he must have heard her coming, he gave no sign of noticing her until she sent to him.

**Longshanks, I'm sorry.**

He let out a long sigh, one of mingled relief and frustration. "So'm I. I hit one of the sore spots again, didn't I? I try to keep away from 'em, but curse it, Silverbreeze, sometimes I don't know where they are."

**I know you don't. That's why I came to—to explain. To tell you why—**

"Where the scars come from?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she whispered. She sat down on the rock a little way from him and began picking at a bit of lichen. **After everything you've done for me, I owe you that much.**

Longshanks did not like the undercurrent of hopelessness in her sending, but all he said was, "Go on."

There was a long pause during which Silverbreeze stared out to sea, collecting her thoughts and fearfully probing her memories. At last she took a deep breath and began slowly, "It was trolls. Our tribe had had trouble with them for turns, any time we needed to go to the mainland. They killed my mother when I was very small. They'd been quiet for a while, though, so we didn't expect any trouble that night. I was out hunting with my uncle, Darkhammer, and Goodspear, his soulbrother. We'd had a mudfight afterwards, gone swimming, and were sitting on the beach around the fire singing songs and telling stories while we dried off. The trolls came on us without any warning, out of the dark. They..."

Silverbreeze's voice broke. Longshanks waited, still as stone, for her to continue, but what came next was not words. Instead there was a touch on his mind, and he saw/felt/heard—

_—three dark, squat shapes limned by flickering firelight ... the ruddy glint on weapons ... Darkhammer's shout of alarm as he sprang to his feet ... sprinting toward the water only to encounter a looming troll-shape ... large rough hands grabbing her, holding her in a grip of iron despite her frantic struggles ... Darkhammer charging toward her, throwing himself against a rocklike greenish body, to no avail ... the flash of a blade before it buried itself in Darkhammer's vitals and he was tossed to the sand, broken and bleeding, dying before her eyes ... Goodspear dashing to his side, tearing out the blade, charging in his turn, a mace smashing into his head with enough force to send his slight body flying to land sprawled and motionless ... blood soaking into the sand ... a huge, hairy hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams before she was hit on the head and dragged away into darkness._

"They took me to their caverns deep underground. Their leader—their king—was called Tigerfists. He ... there had been some sort of rebellion. His troll queen had been disgraced and sent to the mines. He wanted me to—to lifemate with him, to become his new queen." Silverbreeze shuddered. "He offered me gold and jewels and f-furs..." There was a flicker in Longshanks' brown eyes, but no other response. "Four times he offered. I refused. I only wanted to go home. I thought he must be mad. How could he think I would—barter myself for things, after his people murdered my uncle and Goodspear ... and my mother?" She looked at Longshanks accusingly, as if he could tell her why.

"A troll might," he said quietly. "That's the way they think. Go on."

"Finally I guess Tigerfists ran out of patience," she continued. "He had me thrown into a pit and chained—chained with silver, to mock me with the riches I'd refused, I suppose. He had me beaten—whipped—till I nearly died. Then he came and—and—"

She choked again and turned to sending, unable to speak aloud the agonizing memory: her naked body stretched out helpless upon rich furs, racked with pain ... her legs seized and thrust apart ... a heavy body atop hers, crushing screams from her ... a hideous, grinning troll face hovering over her, gloating over her helplessness to resist his violation of her, enjoying the pain he inflicted more than any pleasure he took from her body ... pain ... screaming ... pain ... twisting her head away because it was the only thing she could move, pressing her cheek against the furs, choking on her own tears ... PAIN...

"High ... Ones!" Longshanks grated through clenched teeth. Silverbreeze sensed his anguish and tried to pull away, but they were too closely linked; the flow of memory could not be stopped. Her captivity; the days that stretched into moons that became turns, the dwindling of defiance under repeated taunts and abuses, until all hope was gone and she became a will-less slave, unable to remember ever being anything else.

"He—they—broke me," she whispered, her voice full of shame and self-disgust. "Even if I had been unchained, I couldn't have escaped. He did whatever he pleased with me and I never fought back.

"Then one night I dreamed I heard voices. They were elves. I don't know if they were real, and if they were, if they even knew I was there, but I felt them, and something woke up inside me. I told you they had me chained with silver. I shaped it. It's my Talent, but I hadn't been able to use it at first because the trolls watched me all the time. Later I forgot it along with everything else. But the voices made me remember it again. I shaped open my chains and escaped. It was easy. They'd stopped watching me long ago; there was no need. I found a long tunnel; I don't know how long it was. I crawled through it for what seemed like turns. Finally I reached the end of it and I was out. I didn't know where I was, only I was near the sea. I saw the dolphins one day and they seemed to call to me the way the elves did in my dream. That was how I met Quicksplash and we bonded. Later I met Littlepath ... and finally I came here."

There was silence for awhile. The setting sun threw the shadow of the bluffs far out over the waves. Somewhere a gull called.

Finally Longshanks spoke. "If I ever meet this Tigerfists," he growled, "he's gonna die. I won't go looking for him, but if he ever crosses my path, he's dead. That's all." He turned to look at Silverbreeze, lines of pain etched into his face. "Silverbreeze, I'm sorry," he said more softly. "I understand now. I'll try to be more careful—"

Silverbreeze struck the ground with her fist. **You _don't_ understand!** she cried despairingly in his mind. **I can't be your lovemate, ever! I'm not worth it—I'm not worth _you_. I'm spoiled ... broken ... less than elf—"

**_NO!_** In a flash he did understand, realized the true source of her withdrawal. She was not rejecting him so much as she was rejecting herself. **No,** he repeated more gently. **Silverbreeze ... it doesn't matter. Whatever's happened to you, whatever's been done to you doesn't make you any less _you_.** The dark violet eyes regarded him hopelessly. He was not getting through. He was losing her. **Curse it, Silverbreeze!** he exploded. **Don't run away from me again! I can't stand it, I'll go crazy, I want you so much—**

A low gasp came from her and she started back. _Oh, Komei's bones, I've frightened her,_ he thought in despair. _Myek, you zwoot-brain, you've scared her off again! She's terrified of being wanted that way ... but I can't hide it any longer._ His eyes met hers, ready to plead against her fear. Instead he found confusion, hesitant wonder, the beginnings of hope ... and something else. The look pierced his heart so that it overflowed. All his feelings for her burst forth: love, desire, compassion, need. They bathed her scarred spirit like rain on parched earth.

**But...** her doubt spoke falteringly, **I was broken. I gave up.**

"So did I," he replied, "and with a lot less reason than you. I was a prisoner once too, Silverbreeze. Humans, in my case. Oh, when they caught me I was pretty low already. I'd lost my whole tribe to a prairie fire and I was drifting around like a tumbleweed with no roots. The humans put me in a cage and showed me off as a curiosity. They didn't beat me or brutalize me—much, just kept me cooped up and skunked me every time I tried to escape. After awhile I quit trying. By the time Bugdance found me and got me out of there, the only reason I hadn't laid down and died was that it'd be too much trouble." His eyes looked calmly into hers. **Reject me if you want, Silverbreeze, but don't give up on yourself just because you lived through something no elf—curse it, nobody at all!—should have to go through. Whatever happened to you, to both of us, it's in the past. What matters is we're here, right now, and you're beautiful and I want you.** He turned away slightly, letting his gaze fall. **I'm willing to wait a little longer, 'cause I know you still hurt, but don't make it too long ... one way or the other.**

Silverbreeze sat frozen, outwardly motionless. Within her spirit walls were crumbling, chains snapping, her inner prison dissolving before the force of revelation. He knew ... understood ... accepted ... loved ... wanted ... needed ... _her_. And anything he regarded so highly could not be the stained, worthless thing she thought it, for he was strong and kind and honest and worthy of any maiden's love and now at last she could love him too—

The space between them vanished in the instant between one heartbeat and the next, and she was sobbing against his chest. All the tears she had not shed since her captivity, that her spirit had been too withered to produce, flowed forth now, but they were tears of relief and joy.

His arms went around her, hesitantly at first, then more surely. His hands stroked her hair and his voice murmured comfortingly in her ear. His chest was warm and hard-muscled against her cheek and hand, taut as a drumskin throbbing to the beat of his heart. He smelled of salt and leather and male and it had been so long, but she remembered, now that the barriers were down between her and her past, that she had not always been alone... Silverbreeze smiled.

**Longshanks,** she whispered in his mind, letting her hand run caressingly down his chest, **help me remember how good it can be.**

He took one sharp, sobbing breath as he realized what she was asking. His heartbeat quickened under her hand. Then his face was buried in her hair, breathing in her scent, like herbs and the great water, as his hands came up and slid the short jacket from her shoulders. The closefitting jumpsuit beneath soon followed as his hands and then his lips and tongue explored and caressed and aroused, while at the same time his mind opened to hers.

Oh High Ones, she'd forgotten what a difference it made, that sharing of sensation, so he could know when he gave pleasure, and she could feel his agony/ecstasy as her own hands and mouth simultaneously explored, reveled in the long lean hardness of him, loosening, untying, releasing—so they both knew the very moment of readiness. He drew her to him, tenderly, hungrily, and they both learned how good it could be between them.

# # # # #

Later it was bliss enough for them to lie together on the tufted grass that crowned the promontory, his head resting on a bundle of folded clothing, hers pillowed on his chest. The risen moons bathed them in a silvery glow and turned her hair to an ebon-shot radiance where it spilled over his encircling arm. His heartbeat had slowed to its normal steady, reassuring rhythm.

Silverbreeze stirred and tilted her head to look into his face. A long-buried sparkle awoke in her violet eyes and her mouth curved into a teasing smile. Her hand came up to stroke the wave of dark hair across his forehead and to touch the closefitting green cap above it.

"Don't you _ever_ take this off?" she demanded, giving it a slight tug.

A chuckle exploded from Longshanks. "C'mon, Silverbreeze, you know I do. When I go in swimming, 'member?"

"Mm. What if you were in a mudfight?" she purred.

He eyed her speculatively. "Well, I dunno," he drawled. "I've never been in a mudfight. You just let me know the next time you're having one and I'll make real sure to take off my cap for it." Silverbreeze laughed and snuggled closer into the curve of his arm. Longshanks tightened his grasp on her fractionally, thinking in delight that he'd never heard her laugh before. It bubbled, like a wave gamboling over rocks.

No doubt the scars would always linger in her soul as they did in her flesh, faint but noticeable; but then, he was not without scars of his own. They twinged sometimes, but not so much that they interfered with the proper business of life and love. In fact, they were a part of it. And now there was Silverbreeze to share both life and love.

He tilted his head back, gazing up at the stars, and smiled. It was a good place they had come to.


End file.
